


you come through like a light

by marvellingyou (tourmalinex)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, Deaf Steve Rogers, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Violence, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, loss of hearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-11-24 06:28:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20903141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tourmalinex/pseuds/marvellingyou
Summary: “My name is Bucky Barnes, and my hero is Steve Rogers.”Twenty-one heads turned to face the small boy, who sank further into his seat as his face grew red.Stucky Bingo 2019: Square I3 — Deaf/Hard of Hearing





	1. Today I'll Make Him Happy

Mrs. Callahan assigned her third-grade students a simple assignment—present your hero to the class. Most kids picked cartoon and comic book characters, but one of her students caught her completely off guard. He stood in front of his classmates, eyes beaming and smile bright.

“My name is Bucky Barnes, and my hero is Steve Rogers.”

Twenty-one heads turned to face the small boy, who sank further into his seat as his face grew red.

“Steve Rogers is the bravest kid I know. He’s as thin as a stick but he isn’t afraid to yell at Henry O’Malley when he picks on smaller kids. Sometimes, he shares his lunch, even if all he has is a bologna sandwich. I think if everyone was as nice and brave as Steve, the world would be a better place.”

It took almost five seconds for the class to clap. Bucky shrugged it off, but Steve wanted to crawl into the deepest cave and hide forever. During recess, Steve sat behind a staircase, knees pulled up to his chest. Bucky plopped down next to him and pouted.

“Aw, please don’t be mad at me,” Bucky whined as he crammed a cookie into his mouth, crumbs sprinkled on his lips and chin. He held out his other cookie as a peace offering. “Ahmm shorrey.”

Steve frowned, but took the cookie anyway. “Is that why you didn’t tell me who your hero was?”

Bucky nodded, then hung his head in shame. “I’m really sorry, Steve.”

“It’s okay, Bucky.” Steve took a bite from his cookie. “But I’m not a hero.”

“Yes, you are!” Bucky jabbed his finger at Steve’s chest. “You’re! A! Hero!”

“You’re a better one,” Steve snorted. “At least _ you _ can beat up the bullies.”

_ ‘I’m not strong like you’ _ goes unsaid, but Bucky could feel the sentiment.

“You jump in before anyone else,” Bucky explained. “And you fight with all you got. That’s a hero.”

Before Steve could protest, Mrs. Callahan was rounding up their classmates. As they lined up with the other kids, Bucky flashed a smile at Steve.

He decided to let it go for now.

* * *

Word got around of Bucky’s presentation, and it didn’t sit well with Henry O’Malley. As soon as Bucky was distracted, the fifth-grader and his friends managed to corner Steve after school.

“So,” Henry said, cracking his knuckles. “You think you’s some kind of tough guy?”

Steve sputtered, trying to think of something to say, only to be lifted up by his shirt collar. He kicked his legs, trying to break free, only to have a punch land on his face.

“Not much of a hero, ain’tcha?”

The last thing he heard was Henry and his friends laughing as each of their punches painted Steve’s face with blood and bruises. He didn’t hear the running footsteps. He didn’t hear Bucky calling out his name, or the other kids shouting at the spectacle. 

When he woke up in the hospital, he couldn’t hear anything—not even Bucky, whose face was red and tear-stained, as he cried out apology after apology.

* * *

With transportation, rent and other household costs, the odds of Sarah affording the procedure to get back Steve’s hearing was slim to none. Most nights, she cried herself to sleep, ashamed that she couldn’t do more for her son, her moon, her stars. Winifred didn’t want to leave Sarah and Steve on their own, so she offered to help Sarah around the apartment after work. Of course, Bucky refused to be left behind and often slept over, despite his mother’s scolding.

“Maybe you should let him rest today,” she told him, patting his head as she grabbed her purse and a tote bag. 

“But Stevie doesn’t go to school anymore and I wanna see him,” he said, frowning. “He just stays in his room all day. ‘Sides, he can use more paper to draw!” Bucky opened his backpack, presenting a messy stack of white paper and a pack of colored pencils.

She bit her lower lip, then ultimately sighed in defeat. “Okay, but don’t tire him out too much.”

Bucky grinned, humming along as he followed his mother down the streets of Brooklyn. The cold wind picked up, tangling his brown, growing locks. For a moment, he wondered if Steve kept his window closed. Sure, he wasn’t stuck at home because he caught another nasty cold, but that was all the more reason why he should be snug in his bed, warm and protected from the chilly air. 

Even though he kept thinking and thinking, Bucky couldn’t wrap his head around why Steve couldn’t just come back to school. He knew Henry O’Malley’s parents talked to Sarah at the hospital. They apologized and Sarah forgave them, that much Bucky could understand. But he didn’t know why Henry cried—well, he knew _ why _. It just bothered Bucky that Henry was comforted. If he could, Bucky would have punched Henry in the face, knock out some of his teeth. It wouldn’t have made Steve feel better, or Sarah. But it would have put Bucky at ease to see Henry getting a taste of his own medicine, not that it mattered—Henry changed schools anyway. For Steve’s sake, Bucky didn’t know and didn’t care so long as Henry was far away from Steve as physically possible.

Once Bucky and his mother arrived at the apartment building, she went up to the callbox, pressing the numbers that went with Sarah’s unit. 

“_ Hello? _”

“Sarah, honey,” Winifred said. “It’s me and Bucky. I brought over some brisket!”

The door buzzed immediately, allowing Winifred to pull the front door open. Bucky rushed through, nearly knocking his mother over. He raced up the stairs to the second floor, his feet heavy with every step. 

_ Today, I’ll make him happy. _

On cue, Sarah opened up the door, smiling at Bucky.

“Hi Ms. Rogers!” He flashed her a toothy grin. 

“Hi Bucky.” She looked up, searching for Winifred. “Where’s your mother?”

Before Bucky could respond, his mother made it to the top of the stairs. 

“James Buchanan Barnes,” she said. “The neighbors are gonna think an elephant came through with all that stomping around!”

“Is Steve in his room?”

“Yes,” Sarah said. Bucky couldn’t quite place it, but something was different about Sarah’s smile. He shrugged off his worry and went over to Steve’s room. Through a small crack in the doorway, Bucky could see Steve on his bed, focusing with a crayon in his hand. He was using a hardcover book in his lap as a steady surface for him to draw. Bucky took each step with care as to not startle Steve. While Steve’s hearing was gone, Bucky learned his lesson after the last time he ran into Steve’s room, making the blonde jerk in fear at the sudden figure rushing towards him. As Bucky got closer, Steve’s eyes flickered towards him, his lips curling into a smile. 

“Hi,” Bucky said with a small wave, mouthing loudly so Steve could understand him. Steve waved back in silence. Since the incident, he hadn’t said a word. The courage he once had shriveled into a speck. Although Steve could use his voice, he didn’t see the point if he couldn’t hear anything. That damn stubborn punk. 

Steve made room for Bucky on his bed, patting the space next to him. Before climbing onto the mattress, Bucky took off his backpack and unzipped it, showing Steve the stack of white paper, folded corners and all. He took out the stack and the pack of colored pencils, placing them carefully on the side table.

The blonde boy flipped through the papers in his lap and gave Bucky a crayon. They always wrote on a shared piece of paper, as it was the only way they could communicate.

_ Did you eat lunch, _ Bucky wrote. _ We ate leftover brisket. _

_ Ma’s soup _ , Steve replied. _ It was delicious. _

_ Your ma makes the best soup. Don’t tell my ma. _

Steve snorted, making Bucky giggle.

_ I won’t tell. Promise. _

They carried on like that. Bucky filled in Steve on his day at school, how as much as he hated learning long division, he was good at it. The class tried convincing their teacher to get a class pet and to everyone’s disappointment, Mrs. Callahan said no. But he had good news.

_ The book fair is coming soon. I can get a book for you. _

Steve smiled at the offer, but shook his head.

_ Thanks, but it’s okay. _

Bucky frowned. He wanted to do something nice for Steve, because his best friend deserved all the nice things in the world. Steve deserved all the art supplies that existed, all the books he could read, all the candy he could eat. And Bucky wasn’t going to give up until he got something wonderful for Steve. 

He slid off the bed, much to Steve’s confusion. Bucky pulled his backpack close to him, digging his hand through the largest pocket until he found a Ziploc bag filled with coins and dollar bills. He held it to his chest tightly, doing his best to hide it from Steve’s sight.

_ I’ll be right back _, Bucky quickly wrote. Steve nodded, watching as Bucky walked over to the living room. 

As Bucky ventured out of the bedroom, he caught some stray words between his mother and Sarah—as always, they talked about money. He knew he wasn’t supposed to listen to the conversation, but he couldn’t help it. He made his way over to the kitchen where his mother and Sarah sat, feeling somewhat hopeful. Sarah sniffled, trying to compose herself, but Bucky knew better. He could hear the sadness that seeped into her voice and he noticed how red her eyes were while the dark circles underneath grew more prominent.

“Ms. Rogers,” Bucky said, placing the bag on the table. “I wantcha to have this.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Winifred patted his cheek. “What’s all of this?”

“It’s my tooth fairy money ‘n some coins I found,” he explained. “I wanted a bike that me ‘n Steve could share but I want him to hear again. Will this help?”

Sarah clasped her hand over her mouth, stifling a whimpering cry. After a few deep breaths, she moved her hand away from her face and smiled, her lips still trembling.

“Thank you, Bucky,” she said. “That’s very kind of you.”

Bucky simply nodded, then trotted over to the bathroom. He closed the door, then pressed his ear against it, hoping to hear more of the conversation, as muffled as it was.

“_ I don’t know what to say, _ ” Sarah said. “ _ Winnie, I-I can’t take this from him _.”

“_ I can keep it for him, _ ” his mother said. “ _ I wonder what goes through his head sometimes. _” Bucky frowned. He didn’t want to keep his money. He wanted Steve and Sarah to have all of it.

“_ Or, _ ” his mother continued. “ _ There’s something else I have in mind. _”

“_ And what’s that? _”

_ Yeah, ma, _ he thought. _ What else could make any of this better? _

“_ Sarah, you’re like a sister to me. _ ” Winifred sighed wistfully. “ _ And our boys, they’re attached at the hip. We love Steve, so George and I had an idea. I know… I know the surgery is too expensive, but what if all of us took ASL classes? It’s something we can afford together. _”

_ ASL? _

Bucky opened the door with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Ma, what does ‘ASL’ mean?” 

“James Buchanan Barnes,” Winifred warned. “Were you eavesdropping?” Ignoring his mother’s question, he walked over to Sarah. 

“Will that help me talk to Steve and Steve talk to me,” he asked. “I wanna play with him again, and I think he wants to go back to school.”

Sarah took in a deep breath, then placed her hands on Bucky’s shoulder. “It’s different. Instead of talking with your voice, you use your hands. And… that way, we can all talk to Steve.”

“I wanna learn,” Bucky said firmly. “I wanna keep talking to Steve.”

Sarah looked back at Winifred, who placed her hand on top of hers. “It’ll take some getting used to,” Winifred said. “But our minds are made up. We want to do this with you.”

“Okay,” Sarah said quietly. “ Okay. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Oh, hush.” Winifred smiled brightly. “That’s what friends are for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy this has been sitting in my docs for a hot minute. Between the Stucky Big Bang and other fandom events, I've been trying to squeeze in some bingo fics. Originally, this was going to be a one shot, but I decided to split up the story into three chapters. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this first chapter! I apologize for any mistakes—this was posted at 1:25am and I'm pretty sure there are errors abound!
> 
> See y'all next update! Feel free to say hi on [tumblr](https://marvelling-you.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/queerestblues)!


	2. the things done for love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Steve, Sarah, Bucky and the rest of the Barnes' learned how to sign. While they talk and sign so that Steve can read their lips, Steve's dialogue/signing is written '_like this_.

Going back to school, while being no easy task, made Steve feel like a normal kid again—well, as normal as he could feel. Since Sarah took him out of school in the middle of the year, Steve was held back, much to his frustration. He was already known as the inhaler kid and the kid that got beaten to a pulp. Now he was the kid that needed a sign language interpreter. But his classmates knew better than to say anything. One glare from Bucky, and they all went running. 

“Whatcha got for lunch, Steve?” Bucky asked as he sat down next to the blonde in the cafeteria. 

‘ _ Leftover spaghetti _ ,’ he replied. He took out the tupperware and plastic fork from his lunch bag. ‘ _ What about you? _ ’

“Turkey sandwich.” It was cut into two triangles, just how he liked it. "Wanna go halfsies?" He held out half of his sandwich to Steve, who smiled back and took out an extra fork.

Bucky wanted to savor every moment they had together. He knew Steve worried enough over adjusting back to a normal schedule, so they didn’t talk about the shift that would happen. Steve was resilient, stubborn to no end. But Bucky? He liked being at Steve’s side—it came as naturally as breathing. Being in different classes was already difficult, however, at some point, Bucky would be in middle school while Steve stayed here. 

He’d be further away.

Despite knowing that Steve would follow right behind him, they’d have to go through being apart _again_ when Bucky becomes a freshman. And he hated the idea of being away from Steve. 

But they’d cross that bridge when they got there. For now, he was going to enjoy lunch with his favorite person.

* * *

Just as Bucky feared, middle school was completely boring without Steve. Sure, he managed to make friends and get along with his peers, but none of them compared to his best friend—not even close. Whenever he had a free moment, he would text Steve, asking about how classes were going and if they could meet up after school. The last time they hung out was three days ago, during the weekend and he just wanted some time together.  _ Fuck it,  _ Bucky thought as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. 

_Hey Stevie_, he typed. _You free today?_

_Sorry_, Steve immediately replied. _Gotta see the doc. My back hurts._

Bucky sighed as he rolled his eyes. Steve hadn’t mentioned any back pain recently, probably because the punk thought he didn't want to bother anyone. Typical. 

_Dammit Stevie._

_It’s probably nothing._

_It better be. Tell me later?_

_Fine, jerk._

_Punk._

But of course it was _something_. His spine was curved, but not so much that it was completely debilitating.

_Doc says I gotta get lots of x-rays._

Bucky chewed on his lower lip. If he could, he’d take half the health problems Steve had—or all of it, really. He didn’t really know what scoliosis was until he asked his mother. When he found out it could get worse, his heart dropped to his stomach. Winifred smiled softly as she smoothed her hand over the top of his head.

“But that’s why the doctor wants to keep seeing Steve,” she said. “They want to make sure it doesn’t get worse.”

“What if it does?” Bucky asked, his voice quiet. He felt himself shrink, as if he was that third-grader in the waiting room all over again.

“Then we’ll be there for him.” Winifred sounded so sure, but her tone brought no comfort. 

“It’s not fair,” he said through gritted teeth. “How come all of this has to happen to Steve?”

“I know, honey, I know.” She pulled him close and rubbed his back as he let out an anguished sob. He knew that if anything, _Steve_ was the one who was hurting. He needed to be strong for him. But Bucky couldn’t stop the overwhelming frustration flooding out of him.

* * *

In his sophomore year of high school, Bucky did his best to get into classes that had students from different grades. Once he got his schedule figured out, he went over to Steve’s place and explained his brilliant plan.

“I got health class for third period,” Bucky pointed at his “counselor approved” print out. “And even though I’m shit at drawing, I put it down for fifth. I figured I could use some practice,” he said with a wink.

Steve let out a soft chuckle. ‘_Yeah, you’re pretty terrible. A five-year-old can do better._’

“Punk.”

‘_Jerk._’

After Steve took his placement tests and met with a counselor, he happily texted Bucky, letting him know that he managed to get the same two classes. And so far, after a few weeks, school was going relatively well. His classmates were mostly welcoming and he even branched out of his comfort zone by joining the Art Club. 

Bucky couldn’t be happier. When they got out of school, they often went back to each other’s homes to study—Bucky found that with Steve’s pestering, he managed to get work done. They worked in comfortable silence, focusing on the tasks at hand. After a few hours, they’d play video games or go back outside to grab some ice cream, or whatever sweet treat Bucky had been craving. 

One day, Steve couldn’t stop fidgeting at Bucky’s desk, swinging his legs back and forth. He had been thinking about how despite everything—especially when he was being a pain in the ass by dragging Bucky into multiple fights—his best friend stayed by his side. And yet, Steve wondered if that’s all they were. He’d catch himself staring at Bucky for longer than he meant to, not that Bucky noticed. And maybe that was for the better. 

As Bucky flipped through his notes, Steve waved his hand in front of Bucky’s face to get his attention. Once Bucky looked up from his notebook, Steve let out a long breath. ‘ _ Hey, Bucky? Can I ask you something? _ ’ 

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “What’s up?”

As he held up his trembling hands, Steve chewed on his lower lip. ‘ _ Nevermind. It’s stupid. _ ’

“Just ask me, punk.” Bucky was met with a light punch to the shoulder, making him snort. “I won’t think it’s stupid. Now tell me.”

‘ _ What… _ ’ Steve let out a long breath. ‘ _ What do I sound like? And what do you sound like? _ ’

_ Oh. _

“Um…” Bucky ran a hand through his hair. “Try sayin’ something.”

Steve brought his fingers to his neck, brushing his fingertips against his Adam’s apple as he cleared his throat. 

“Hey, Buck.”

Warmth bloomed across Bucky’s face, spreading from ear to ear. Before that instance, Bucky could only make guesses at how Steve’s voice sounded. His imagination, crafted from the smallest grumbles to the loudest yelps of surprise, paled in comparison to the real thing. Steve’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. 

“You got a deep voice.” Bucky smiled. “And it’s really nice. I sound… huh. I don’t know.”

He turned towards the door. “Hey, Becks,” he called. “Come here for a sec!”

“ _ What, _ ” Becks shouted from down the hall. She walked to Bucky’s room and leaned against the doorway. “You’re taking me from my precious AP studying.” 

“How does my voice sound,” Bucky asked. “Steve wants to know.”

Becks snickered. “Why? You sound like someone put a fork in a blender.”

‘ _ But I really want to know, _ ’ Steve insisted. ‘ _ Please? _ ’

“Ugh,  _ okay _ ,” Becks said. “The things I do for love. But only if Bucky takes out the garbage. I did it the last time.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Fine! You better not talk shit about me while I’m gone.”

Once Bucky left the room, Becks jumped onto the bed, smile beaming.

“Okay, so Bucky sounds like…” Becks’ eyes shifted in thought. “It’s hard to describe. Do you remember what dad sounds like?”

Steve nodded.

“Kinda like that, but softer.”

The blonde let the information sink in. He wondered how many octaves deeper Bucky’s voice became since they were kids. Did he sound charming? He must have, given all the notes left in his locker. He wanted to know, but for now, this would be enough.

‘_I think… I think you’re right._’ He smiled softly, a small blue creeping onto his cheeks. Becks cocked an eyebrow, but easily dismissed it. ‘_How about you? What do you sound like._’

“Oh, that’s easy,” Becks said with a smug, toothy grin. “I sound like the smartest gal in the universe.”

* * *

They decided to hang around Prospect Park after grabbing some pizza. It was a beautiful Friday afternoon, and both Steve and Bucky agreed that it’d be a waste to spend it inside. As they moseyed around, Steve took pictures for references. He was skilled at figure drawing—Bucky thought he was the best by far in their drawing class—but Steve admitted that his backgrounds could use some work. 

However, their walk was interrupted by a commotion. Steve may have lost his hearing, but he knew trouble when he saw it. He noticed a crowd of teenagers—probably around their age—circling a man who was on the ground. He didn’t even bother to tug on Bucky’s arm as he got closer to survey the situation. From the looks of it, the man sitting on the grass wore tattered clothing and had a beaten-up cardboard sign with them. The teenagers laughed, taking turns giving the man kicks to his side, and that made Steve’s blood boil.

He charged towards them, his thin frame barrelling towards the biggest guy in the group. Without hesitation, he used his voice, shouting as loud as possible.

“Leave him alone!”

The sudden voice made Bucky turn around, and his heart skipped a beat at the sight of Steve taking on a whole group of people by himself, taking a few punches to the face. While other people stood still at the fight, Bucky’s legs carried him over to Steve before his brain could truly process what was happening.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing one of the guys by the shoulder. “Pick on someone your own size!”

As the guy swung his fist towards Bucky, he blocked with his forearm and returned the punch, successfully landing it on the guy’s jaw. As the guy doubled over, Bucky took the chance and pushed him, then quickly kicked him square on the ass. His friends looked on, now afraid of the attention around them and the brunette that beat up who Bucky assumed to be their leader. They gathered themselves and ran off, looking back to see if Bucky was following them. 

Although his face was bloodied and bruised, he approached the man slowly, holding his hands up in the universal “I mean no harm” gesture.

“Are… you… okay?” he asked. 

The man nodded and straightened himself up. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

Bucky turned to Steve, quickly interpreting what the man said. Steve shook his head at the man and smiled.

“No need.” He paused, letting the fact that he was actually speaking out loud sink in. “I… I hate bullies.”

“Thank you. Please.” The man rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a crumpled up piece of paper. His fingers were nimble as he smoothed it out, then folded it up carefully into a paper crane. Once he was done, he held it out to Steve. “Please take this.”

Steve took the crane carefully, holding it as if it were the holiest thing on the planet. 

“Take care.”

As Steve and Bucky walked away, Bucky heaved a sigh.

“I know that we did a good thing,” Bucky began. “But you can’t go doin’ that. What the fuck were you gonna do if I didn’t join you, huh? You were gonna let them pummel you into the ground?”

_ Are you gonna let something else be taken from you? _

It didn’t need to be said, but Steve could tell that’s what Bucky meant through the expression on his face. He tucked the crane carefully into his pocket.

‘_I_ _ already lost my hearing, Bucky. _ ’ Steve exhaled through his nose, his cheeks flushed with anger. ‘ _ What more could someone take from me?! _ ’ 

“I don’t know, Steve,” Bucky said, eyebrows furrowed. “How about your _l_ _ ife _ ? What are you gonna do when they start breakin’ your face in?”

What if someone takes you from me?

‘_I had him. On. The. Ropes._’ The blonde bit his lower lip as his arms dropped to his sides. He hated this. He hated the body he was in and he hated that all anyone could see was his body. Steve was more than his yardstick-thin figure. He was more than his fucked-up spine. He was more than his poor excuse of a heart. He felt it down to the bone that he was more than his appearance. How hard was that for other people to understand?

“Don’t go doin’ that.”

Steve cocked his head to the side, confused.

“You’re thinkin’ way too loud.” Bucky smiled crookedly as he swatted Steve’s shoulder. “Next time, bring me along with you. What hero goes chargin’ in without his sidekick?”

Steve rolled his eyes ‘ _ God, you’re a sap _ .’

“Yeah, but you like it,” Bucky said. “Why else would you bother hangin’ around me, you punk?”

‘ _ Jerk. _ ’

There were many reasons, Steve thought. Bucky’s smile, empathy, passion… As Buck walked beside him, Steve’s stomach fluttered.

_ Oh, god. I think I like him. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! Stay tuned for some angst and smut in the next chapter! Please excuse any grammatical/spelling errors. My mind is going a thousand miles a minute so I may have missed some things.
> 
> Feel free to say hi to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/queerestblues) or [tumblr](https://marvelling-you.tumblr.com).
> 
> Be good. I love you. I'll see y'all next time!


	3. animals after all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm sorry to disappoint, but there's no smut in this chapter (I promise it will be in the next one). Instead, you'll be reading a lot of angst.
> 
> You've probably noticed that the chapter count went up from three to four. I didn't anticipate this chapter to be as long as it is, and I felt that it would be best to have this as its own chapter.
> 
> CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter deals with the death of Sarah Rogers, who has cancer.

Junior year was already stressful. Steve had to keep up his grades and work on an art portfolio if he wanted to get into a good college. He already had enough on his plate. But one day, four words brought his world to a grinding halt.

“Steve, I have cancer.”

His mother’s calmness unsettled him. She was so matter-of-fact about it that Steve wanted to scream and yell for her. It started as an ulcer in her stomach, but grew into a ticking bomb. Sarah needed surgery—the doctor recommended that they take out half her stomach. She’d go through chemo and radiation therapy. And Steve wanted more than anything to be with her every step of the way, just like she did for him through all of his ailments.

“Sweetie, you should focus on school for now,” Sarah said. “I’ll admit it’s going to be difficult, but the doctor was very optimistic.”

But Steve shook his head. ‘ _ I should be there with you. _ ’

“I promise not to go alone, okay?”

Sarah pulled her son into a tight hug. She felt Steve’s shoulder trembling and did her best to soothe him. But soon enough, she found herself crying, too.

* * *

Sure enough, Bucky heard the news from his mother. The gravity of it all made him want to empty his stomach. Sarah Rogers was the sweetest person. Tough as nails, but she had the most generous soul. He could tell by Winifred’s red eyes and sniffling nose that she was wounded beyond words. 

He ran to his room and pulled out his phone, thumbs hovering over Steve’s name. But before he could send a text, Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed at an incoming video call from Steve. Bucky flopped onto his bed, using a pillow to prop up his phone then answered the call. To his disappointment, he couldn’t see Steve on the other end. Instead, he was greeted with his designated picture for Steve, which was the blonde sticking his tongue out after having been caked on his birthday.

“Hey, Steve,” Bucky said as he signed. “Can I see you?”

_No_, Steve texted. _I look like shit._

“C’mon.” Bucky smiled softly. “I’m showin’ you my ugly ass.”

_If that’s your ass, I can see why people wanna kick it._

Bucky snorted. “You dumbass!”

_:)_

“Please, Stevie? I’ll always wanna see you.” 

Within a few seconds, Bucky saw the familiar background of Steve’s room. He waited patiently as Steve moved around his phone so Bucky could see his face. As the lighting adjusted, Bucky could see what Steve meant. His eyes were swollen with despair and his hair was disheveled. Steve’s reddened nose was prominent against his pale complexion and his lips were pressed into a thin line. In all the years they’d known each other, Bucky saw Steve cry twice. The first time was after Steve woke up and realized that he couldn’t hear anymore. The second was on accident. Some of the kids followed Steve home, shouting at him knowing that he couldn’t hear. But he didn’t need his hearing to notice their reflection in the puddles on that rainy day. 

‘_Thanks for indulging me. I just… I just needed to see you._’ Knowing that’s how Steve felt made Bucky’s heart flutter. ‘_Today was the worst._’

“I know. Ma told me.” Bucky drew in a long breath. “I’m so sorry, Stevie.” Those words weren’t enough, and they never could be. But Bucky wanted to tell Steve anyways, because he really, really was.

‘_She said she’s gonna be fine, but I can’t shake this feeling, Buck. I feel it._’ Steve put his hand over his chest, clawing over his heart. ‘_In here._’

He watched as Steve willed the tears welling up in his eyes to remain there, to not betray him by falling from his lashes. 

‘_I don’t know what to do. I… I want this to be a bad dream._’

“Whatever happens, I’m here for you, Stevie.” Bucky tried to put on a brave face for him, but Bucky was nearly as devastated as Steve. Sarah was a second mother, someone who bore witness to the few milestones he experienced so far.

Steve smiled, but the underlying bitterness didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky.

‘_I know. My hero._’

A blush crept onto Bucky’s cheeks. He liked to think that he was a good person, that he could be a hero. But for now, he’d settle for being Steve’s best friend.

“Eh, shut up,” Bucky said, giggling. “We’re gonna figure all of this out. M’pretty sure our ma’s are comin’ up with a plan.”

‘_Yeah, you’re right._’ Steve sighed. ‘_But still. She did so much for me. I want to be able to help her._’

“I don’t know if anyone told you this, Stevie, but it’s a parent’s job to look after their kid.” As Steve scowled, Bucky gave him a crooked smile. “But I get it. I wanna help out, too. So if you need anything—and I mean _anything—_let me know, okay?”

‘_Okay. In that case..._’ Steve shifted his eyes in thought as a warmth bloomed from ear to ear. He hoped that he still looked shitty enough that Bucky couldn’t tell. ‘_Can we stay on the call for a bit longer? I mean, if you’re not too busy with homework or anything?_’

Bucky didn’t need a moment to think it over.

“Steve, I’ll always have time for you.” 

* * *

The aggressive cancer prevailed after half of Sarah’s stomach was removed. For nearly a week, all Sarah was allowed were ice chips. Then, she was slowly introduced to a liquid-only diet. Sarah didn’t need to be reminded—just thinking about most foods made her feel sick. As her surgical scars healed and she could stomach soft foods, George and Winifred took turns taking Sarah to chemotherapy. 

Steve watched as the cancer chipped his mother away, piece by piece. Their once small yet harmonious household—while not utter bedlam—was coming apart at the seams. Sometimes, after coming home from school, Steve would find his mother vomiting violently, her hands trembling as she emptied her vacant stomach. 

“I-I’m sorry,” she said, signing weakly. “You sh-shouldn’t have to see me like this.”

“No.” Steve took his mother’s hands in his. “Not your fault."

He pulled her in for a hug, knowing that he couldn’t even imagine how much pain wracked through her body. Worst of all, Steve was painfully aware that he couldn’t do anything for her. He couldn’t bear her cross, no matter how much he wished it. All he could do was be a good son.

So, he did his best wherever possible. Steve did all the chores. At least, the ones Winifred left for him—that woman and her husband were hellbent on lending a helping hand. He heavily researched scholarships and grants to apply for once he got into college and by the time the end of the semester rolled around, he had straight A’s. Granted, he felt that a lot of his hard work was attributed to Bucky reminding him to study, but for the most part, he worked his skinny ass off and was rewarded with success.

“I’m so proud of you.” Sarah pressed a kiss on the top of Steve’s head.

‘_Don’t jump the gun,_’ Steve replied. ‘_I still don’t know which colleges I’m applying to yet._’

“Regardless, I want you to know that I love you and I couldn’t be prouder.”

For the first time, Steve felt worthy of his mother’s praise. He never really thought highly of himself. He was just a kid from Brooklyn, and that’s all there was to it. But he could see it in his mother’s eyes, the utter glowing adoration she felt towards him.

But happiness, as Steve knew it, was fleeting. He could chase after it and reach out with arms wide open. But it always slipped through his fingers.

Sarah went to the emergency room one night with Steve by her side, clutching onto her hand throughout the ambulance ride and as they waited for an overwhelmed staff to check on her. They waited long into the night, only for Sarah to be rushed into the intensive care unit. Steve followed right behind, only to stop when a nurse held him from passing the double doors. It was only for ten minutes, but Steve may as well have waited an entire week. He felt relief when a doctor called him to follow them back to Sarah’s room, but deflated upon seeing her.

She had a tube in her mouth and a cannula gently releasing oxygen into her nose. He stepped towards her bedside, taking the sight of her in. Were her cheeks always so hollow? Were her eyes always sunken in? Could he always see the bones of her hands?

Her eyes were closed, but she looked far from peaceful. Steve pulled up a chair from the corner of the room and sat close to her. He took her hand with reverence and held it against his forehead.

_Please, God, let her wake up._

He’d give anything for his mother to come out of this alive. If he could, he’d sacrifice his _existence_.

Doctors were coming in and out of the small room, checking in on Sarah’s vitals, looking for signs of brain activity.

Meanwhile, Steve texted Bucky and within half an hour, Bucky met him outside of the ICU with the rest of the Barnes’ in tow. Winifred went to the nurse’s station while George took Steve down to the cafeteria to get something to eat. He initially refused, believing that he wasn’t allowed to. How could he leave the floor? How could he abandon his mother like that? But Bucky and his sisters dragged him along, pulling him towards the elevator. He didn’t eat much, only managing half of a poor excuse of a turkey sandwich.

“We’re gonna head out for a bit,” Bucky said, then motioned for his sisters to follow him. “We’ll be back soon.”

Steve nodded. ‘_Thanks, Buck._’

Bucky smiled as he left Steve alone in the cafeteria. The blonde propped his arm onto the table and brought his hand to his face, resting against it. He didn’t allow himself the luxury of sleep—not that he could, anyhow. So many thoughts were swimming in his head, drowning everything out. 

He should have been more vigilant. 

He should have asked the doctor more questions. 

He should have been a better son.

“Steve?”

He shot up at the figure in front of him and quickly rubbed his face with his hands in a futile attempt to hide his exhaustion. Steve didn’t know how long George had been sitting with him, but he didn’t want to think about it too much. 

‘_Sorry, just a little tired,_’ Steve said. ‘_Is everything okay? Do I need to go back to my mom’s room?_’

“Steve, I hope you know that Winnie and I love you and Sarah like family,” George said. “I know we should stay positive but… but it the worst comes to pass, our door is open.”

Steve’s hands balled into fists. He already knew the chances of his mother recovering was slim, and to keep Sarah that way, when she can’t be herself anymore was selfish and cruel. But he couldn’t stay with the Barnes’. They already had Bucky and his sisters. Steve would just be another mouth to feed, another bill to pay.

‘_Thank you, but I’m sure I can pull it off on my own._’

George sighed, but then patted Steve’s back and smiled.

“We don’t leave family behind, Steve. Winnie would raise hell if you didn’t at least have dinner with us tonight.”

The thought made Steve both feel a twinge of fear and laugh. He had witnessed the wrath Winifred Barnes often inflicted on her family, though mostly for good reason. 

‘_Dinner sounds nice. Definitely beats hospital food._’

After forcing himself to eat the rest of his sandwich, Steve and George made their way back upstairs, unsurprised of the doctor’s presence. Steve already knew what the doctor was going to tell them—he could see it in his solemn expression.

“I’m sorry,” he said, Winifred signing for him. “But just as we feared, her brain activity is very low. There’s damage from lack of oxygen. There’s no reason to keep her on life support.”

He anticipated this. Ever since her initial diagnosis, Steve did his best to brace himself for this day, if it was to come. But now that he stood there in that room, his mother unresponsive, the world came crashing down.

‘_I… I understand._’ 

“I’m truly sorry, son.”

‘_Can we wait a little bit? There’s four people who would want to be here._’

“Of course. Just let the nurse know when you’re ready.”

Steve nodded numbly as the doctor walked past him.

“I’ll wait outside for them,” George said, head hung low. 

Winifred motioned for Steve to sit down next to Sarah. As he sat down, she gently placed her hands on his shoulders. Although she tried to comfort him, there was no turning back from the growing grief. 

George, Bucky and his sisters shuffled into the room. The Barnes girls were already trembling with sorrow, Becks the most out of the three of them. Bucky, on the other hand, remained composed. He needed to be. Steve was a sandcastle on the beach as the high tides consumed it, crumbling with every lap of water. He needed something to shield him as much as possible, to help preserve what foundation would be left. Bucky traded places with Winifred and stood behind Steve. He, too, placed his hands on Steve’s shoulders, only to slump forward, closing the distance between them with only the back of the chair separating them.

As Steve took hold of his mother’s hand, he took in her face one last time. The woman on the bed was both his mother and not his mother. She looked so much like Sarah, but she wasn’t. No, this woman was her echo, what remained of her. 

Winifred reached over and pushed the nurse call button.

“Nurse station.”

“We’re ready," she said softly.

“Okay, we’ll be right there.”

Immediately, two nurses came in, both with tear-brimmed eyes. One of them stood on the opposite side, carefully removing the wires and tubes from Sarah’s body while the other turned off the machines. Once Sarah was as natural as could be, her chest seized as she was finally letting go. 

Steve’s grip on his mother’s hand tightened as tears spilled freely from his face. The color from her face was draining, becoming as pale as the sheets she laid upon. Before he realized it, a sound escaped past his lips, startling the Barnes’. It was strangled and anguished. It was proof that humans, deep down, were animals after all. 

Bucky willed his breathing to stay even. He needed to be strong. He needed to be Steve’s pillar. But he felt a shift and inhaled sharply as Steve softly murmured “no” repeatedly. They say you can feel it when someone dies, and Bucky knew Steve felt it because soon enough, the doctor came in, hands trembling as he took off his glasses.

“She’s gone.”

Wails and cries filled the room. All Bucky could do was silently hold onto Steve as he shuddered, his own tears falling in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost 4am so there's bound to be spelling/grammar errors. I hope you enjoyed(??) this chapter. I promise there will be a happy ending for our two Brooklyn boys!
> 
> Comments and kudos make my day! 
> 
> See y'all next time. <3


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